


since the world was built for us

by sleepymoon



Category: Supernatural, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mutants, touch starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 10:18:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1301335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepymoon/pseuds/sleepymoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They know perfectly well what his mutation entails.<br/>The less contact he shares with his peers, the safest they all are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	since the world was built for us

The pivotal day of Castiel's adult life starts off pretty normally, all things considered.

He goes through his morning routine just as meticulously as he's done countless times before.

He gets out of bed, takes a quick shower and gets dressed, leaving the gloves for last. He always leaves the gloves for last.

He stands in front of the full-length mirror and makes perfectly sure that every inch of skin from his neck down is properly covered. He makes a few half-hearted attempts at taming his dramatic bed hair, and then he simply gives up, not wanting to be late for class. He grabs his books and throws a distracted glance around the room – a single room, since he's one of the very few students who's been granted such a privilege.

Of course, it is less of a concession due to merit and more of a security measure.

Accidents are always bound to happen, after all.

 

 

Just as he's about to close the door, someone comes up behind him and places a firm hand on his shoulder.

He startles away from the touch, the reaction ingrained into him after all these years.

He turns, wide-eyed, heart hammering, and finds Kevin looking up at him sheepishly.

'Sorry, Castiel, I shouldn't have- I wasn't thinking- uh. Sorry.'

Castiel sighs, relaxing his shoulders.

'No. It's fine, really, don't apologize. What is it? Is something wrong?' he asks then, frowning, since Kevin seems strangely apprehensive.

'Uhm. Actually, the Professor asked me to find you. They want to see you.'

 

It is not the first time he's been convoked to the Professor's office, but usually it happens at the end of a cycle of weeks, to gather his progresses – mostly to check up on how he's been doing, coping with his mutation. This... this is unusual, though. Unexpected.

As he steps into the room, immediately everyone's gaze turns in his direction. The Professor smiles, warmly.

There are two other teachers with him, and also a boy of his age, standing a few feet from them. He's wearing a worn leather jacket, much larger than his size, and a pair of discolored jeans. He's quite attractive, for human social standards. Not that it would ever concern him, that is.

'Ah, Castiel. Thank you for coming on such short notice.'

'May I ask why?' he says, warily. There's something definitely off here, but he can't pinpoint the reason why.

The boy raises his hand with a little wave in greeting, even though his smile quickly drops at Cas' complete unresponsiveness.

It doesn't make sense. What could they want from him? Certainly not to propose him as a tutor.

They know perfectly well what his mutation entails. The less contact he shares with his peers, the safest they all are.

'We'd like to try a little experiment, if that is okay with you.'

Castiel flexes his fingers inside the gloves, the fabric squelching. He nods.

'Please,' the Professor gestures him to come to stand directly in front of the other boy. He does, albeit quite warily. Their eyes meet, and the air thickens with tension. It is pretty obvious that neither of them has any idea of what exactly is going on, what's going to happen next.

As if on cue, one of the professors steps ahead and takes him by the wrist, quickly shedding his glove. Castiel starts to protest, but then his arm is sharply pulled forward, and his hand – his bare hand – connects with Dean's jaw. He gasps, horrified, trying to snap his hand away, but the man's hold is too strong, and he can only stare helplessly, expecting any second now to see Dean's face contort in agony, to see his skin turn shockingly pale, his vital energy being slowly sucked out of him. He stares, breathing raggedly, into Dean's equally startled eyes. Five seconds. Ten.

He blinks, his arm gradually going lax in the man's grip.

The skin of Dean's jaw is warm, a hint of scruff starting to form. Nothing happens.

Dean stares back into his eyes, standing as still as a statue, clearly worried, but he's still breathing normally.

He doesn't seem to be in pain. He's _alive._

The man finally releases his wrist, and his arm drops to his side, as he blinks again, his brain struggling to process the magnitude of what has just happened. The impossibility of it.

'What,' he breathes, shuddering, ' _How..._ '

The Professor is smiling seraphically, his hands folded in his lap.

'Castiel, I'd like to introduce you to Dean Winchester. He's one of our new students. I believe you two will get along very well.'

Cas turns towards Dean, still wide-eyed.

'Hey,' Dean says, faintly.

Castiel's traitorous hand is already itching horribly with the need to touch Dean again, and he curls it into a shaky fist, swallowing hard and dropping his eyes to the floor.

'May I have my glove back, please?'

*****

 

He doesn't see Dean again for a whole week.

He skips all his classes for the first time in years, sitting cross-legged on his bed instead, staring down at his hands, spending entire hours clenching and unclenching his fingers, trying to recollect that incredible, ghost-like sensation. It's not really big news that he's touch starved.

But still, up until now, he was relatively settled. Content, even.

Adding Dean to the equation, though, means letting his whole world tilt upside down, irreversibly. He isn't anywhere near ready to cope with something so scary (and, he has a hard time admitting, the tiniest bit exciting, too).

 

The morning he steps back into class, out of the corner of his eye he sees Dean perking up, sitting up straight in his chair.

Castiel makes sure to take a seat as distant as possible from him, and he concentrates on the lecture as best as he can, despite Dean's eyes staring into the back of his neck for the whole time.

They spend a whole week simply studying each other from afar, both trying to be subtle about it and failing spectacularly.

Once, Castiel feels Dean's gaze lingering on him longer than usual, and looks up with a tentative smile. Dean's eyes widen in surprise at that. He grins in response, winking. Castiel rolls his eyes and ducks his head to hide a grin of his own. After that, they start to exchange greetings when they bump into each other on their way to class.

Dean has made new friends really fast, predictably. He's handsome, exuberant and lively. There aren't many who wouldn't want to be friends with him, given the opportunity. At lunch he usually sits with a pretty dark-haired girl, Tessa, and one of the elder students, Ash.

He smiles and laughs readily, and it brightens up his whole face. Castiel likes the sound of his laughter a little too much for it to be entirely safe.

 

Then, one day, while Castiel is on his own in the library, someone swiftly sits down in the chair in front of him.

When he looks up, surprised, he finds himself staring into Dean's smiling eyes.

'Hey. Do you- do you mind if I sit here with you?'

Castiel swallows, clenching his fingers in reflex.

'Uhm. I guess I don't mind,' he stutters.

'Cool,' Dean says, grinning.

It still takes another week of awkward attempts at conversation for Dean to finally hold up his hand between them, across the table.

'You know, if you want to- I mean, I wouldn't mind.'

Castiel raises an eyebrow at him.

'You _wouldn't mind_ holding hands with me,' he says, frowning.

'I mean. It's not like... I just thought... but obviously, you don't-'

'I see. You thought I'm obviously desperate and you'd do me a favor.'

Dean frowns, too, sitting back in his chair.

'What! No! I never said you're desperate!'

Castiel drops his eyes to the open book in front of him, worrying his bottom lip.

'Well, as a matter of fact, I am.'

Dean's mouth snaps closed, as Cas slowly peels off the glove from his left hand and places it, palm up, on the table between them.

Dean reaches out, and their fingers lightly collide, curl, and press together. They intertwine, – Cas' hand is shaking quite badly, and it's clammy with sweat and probably gross, but Dean's fingers hold him steady, careful and yet so strong. It's the best feeling in the world. Castiel feels his eyes cloud with tears, and he has to look away to draw in a shuddering breath, to calm himself. Dean doesn't mention it; he doesn't say anything at all, he merely holds on tight and goes back to his reading. Castiel is insanely grateful for that.

'So, how does it work exactly?' he asks after a while, voice still a little hoarse.

'Uh? What?' Dean replies, looking up at him, surprised.

'Your mutation. I've never... seen anything like it before.'

'Oh. Well, it's pretty simple, really. It's like, I'm immune to every mutation that would directly change or affect my body through touch? Like, I don't know, if someone could do that mind control thing, you know, like the Vulcans? Oh, and I met a girl once that could poison people with her fingers. I was immune to her, too. Eh, I mean. Things like that,' he explains, shrugging a little.

'Oh, I see,' Castiel murmurs. And then, because he doesn't know what else to say: ' _Cool_.'

Dean laughs.

'It's really not. But thanks, man.'

 

 

The hand holding becomes a thing, after that.

Castiel is still worried, at first, that Dean is simply feeling obligated, that he'll eventually end up annoyed to have to put up with him.

But Dean always offers up his hand first, with a smile that Cas can't help returning.

Well past the curfew, they sneak out of their respective rooms, having a hard time stifling their giggles, holding hands like it's the most natural thing to do, shushing each other in turns and then giggling harder as they run down the pitch-dark stairs, barefoot and in their pajamas.

They grab some snacks from the kitchens and then they go outside, sitting close together on the balcony, their knees bumping, – sharing goosebumps, cold fingers and warm breaths.

Cas is the one that leans in first, with a burst of courage he never thought he had, and Dean's mouth parts ready and soft against his. He tastes like chocolate brownies and peanut butter. Castiel shudders, gripping Dean's side as the other cups his hand around his neck to steady him, and deepens the kiss. It is glorious, like millions of fireworks exploding one right after the other underneath his skin.

The kissing soon becomes a thing, too.

Castiel in these moments always feels overwhelmed, giddy with exhilaration and disbelief. He never thought he'd ever experience anything like this; this unbearable closeness, heady and addictive. Dean lets him lie on top of him on the warm expanse of his bed, bare chests pressed snugly together; he lets Cas count all his freckles with the tips of his fingers, his eyes closed and his mouth relaxed into a goofy smile. Castiel lets himself fall for him, for good. It might be the only chance he'll ever get, after all.

*****

 

Lisa Braeden is not only a very beautiful girl, but she also possesses a cute, sexy (and certainly not lethal) kind of mutation: with her fairy wings protruding from her back, she looks like a character straight out of a fairytale. Dean has his head thrown back, and he's laughing with his whole body, handsome and carefree, while Lisa is standing way too close to him for Castiel's comfort. Both her arms are wrapped around Dean's biceps, her wings whirling possessively. Dean doesn't seem to be paying her much attention, but something tugs painfully inside Cas' chest all the same. In that moment, Dean looks up and spots him. He grins at him, beckoning him closer.

His face falls, though, as soon as he registers Cas' grim expression.

Dean disentangles himself from Lisa's grip and jogs up to him, leaning in close and tipping his head forward.

'Hey. What is it? Why the grumpy face?' he asks, gently cradling his chin to lift it up. Cas bristles and takes a deliberate step back.

'I don't know. You tell me. Are you done with me? Your experiment is over, then?'

Dean blanches, eyes widening as if Cas had just slapped him.

'What?! Is that what you think of me? _Of us?'_

Cas lowers his gaze to the floor, fists clenching.

'Okay. Fine. You know what? You're right. I'm so fucking done, Cas, you have no idea.'

'Dean...'

'No. Just... no.'

Dean shakes his head and shoulders past him.

Castiel stares helplessly at Dean's retreating back, feeling his skin go numb all over.

 

 

He avoids him like the plague from then on, and Dean must get the memo, because he doesn't see him around either.

But then, one night, as he's about to get into bed, there's a soft knock on his door.

Dean is standing there, arms crossed over his chest and face awfully serious.

'Look, you idiot,' he starts, 'I don't know whatever you think you saw. But I don't want Lisa, I only want to be with you. And you're obviously stuck with me as single option and that sucks, man, I know, 'cause you'd deserve someone so much better, you'd deserve to freaking get the right to _choose_ , at least, like everyone else. But I want to make this perfectly clear: what I feel for you, it was never an experiment, okay? I've wanted you ever since I saw you, before I even knew about your mutation, or anything else. I want you for you, Cas.'

'You... you called me an idiot,' Castiel murmurs in response, blinking rapidly, while his brain is still busy processing everything else Dean just said.

Dean rolls his eyes to the ceiling.

'Yeah, I did, 'cause you are. I'm not apologizing for that.'

Castiel leans in then and kisses him square on the mouth. He draws back a few inches to look into Dean's eyes.

'Dean, if I could get anyone else, I'd still choose you anyway,' he murmurs.

And then, softer: 'I'm sorry. I was jealous, and scared, and I said things I didn't mean.'

Dean heaves a breathy sigh, grasping the back of Castiel's thighs and hefting him up against his chest, as Cas reflexively wraps his legs around his waist, hands all over him much like an eager octopus, making Dean laugh. Their lips cling together easily, sweetly, and it's everything Cas could ever possibly want. Dean takes a few wobbling steps into Cas' room and kicks the door shut without breaking the kiss.

*****

 

As they lie in bed, legs tangled together, breathing quietly, Dean is kissing his fingers one by one.

'You know, I used to think my mutation was so lame. My little brother can do this cool thing with his hair... kinda like Rapunzel, you know? He can make it grow at will. Well, I used to tease him, actually, but truth is, I've always envied him. Being immune didn't seem such a kickass thing, back then. But now that I met you? Cas, now I wouldn't trade it for the world. I get to kiss you _and_ stay alive long enough to do it again and again? It doesn't get much better than that, if you ask me.'

Cas blinks down at him, his lips slowly stretching into a helpless grin.

'You love me,' he whispers, awed, as if the thought had just occurred to him.

Dean twists the corner of his mouth in a fake grimace, and he flicks Cas on the nose.

'Well, _duh.'_

'Oh,' says Cas.

'Yeah, _oh.'_

'I love you, too.'

Dean smiles, presses a kiss in the center of his palm.

'Yeah? Well. That's good. Me and you, we make a pretty great team.'

Castiel burrows his grin against Dean's neck, gently curling his fingers around Dean's.

'We do.'

 

**Author's Note:**

> Cas' mutation is inspired by [ Rogue's](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rogue_%28comics%29) one. Lisa's wings are also inspired by [ Pixie's](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pixie_%28X-Men%29). Oh, and I was quite tempted to mention that Sam could shapeshift into a moose, as well, but I figured that would have probably been too much ;)


End file.
